


My Ocean Made of Tears

by DragonLover19



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Emotions, Mentions of child neglect, Ocean, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, References to Depression, WX is human, life - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 07:11:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20484914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonLover19/pseuds/DragonLover19
Summary: He was giving me that look. The look that he knew I was lying again. I only smiled and stuck my tongue out at him, making him scowl and frown deeper.It was better this way. Having him irritated usually made him forget what he was talking about and I could steer the conversation on something else. Something safe and familiar we're both comfortable to talk about out in the public. "So, Trent's been thinking about which high school he wants to attend next year."WX pulls a face and I almost snort milkshake out my nose trying to hold back a bark of laughter at how funny he looked. "What? Next year?" I nodded. "He's still ten years old, correct? Still in the fourth grade?""Yep. Think he's already smart enough to skip a few grades.""Impossible. We both know he's not that smart."I shrugged. "That's what I told him. But he wouldn't listen. Kept insisting that since he read your geek books you keep leaving behind, he knows everything not to go to grade school anymore and jump to high school."One of WX's brows raised just a tad on his face. "All of them?"I shook my head again. "No. Only one. And he's not even halfway."





	My Ocean Made of Tears

_I never liked the ocean._

_Not much ‘bout it that makes me care enough to even try._

_It’s big. It’s wet. It’s pretty empty. And there’s basically there’s no sound out there ‘cept for the rolling waters and crashing waves._

_It’s… alright._

_I guess._

_Lakes are much more interesting than the ocean._

_They’re smaller. They’ve got ducks in them… sometimes. People come and go around lakes. And on clear days when the air is juuussst still enough, and the skies are clear of clouds to let the sun out, you can see tiny minnows swimming just below the surface near the shore between plant life and reeds._

_It makes it easier to catch them in small cups._

_Whenever it starts to rain, I watch the ground, seeing tiny puddles grow beneath my feet. I think of them as mini lakes._

_Puddles are much more interesting than the ocean._

_Kids usually play in puddles when their parents allow them to. You can make paper boats and sail them on the small rivers, watching them go sailing past twigs, and rocks, and the cracks on the sidewalk. Frogs often hang around puddles too. My brother often thinks frogs only come out when it’s raining is ‘cause they rain from the sky too._

_He’s weird._

_I like it when it rains._

_You can stand outside, listening to the water fall around you, watching the bright colors become bleak and dull._

_My Besty keeps saying how the rain brought out the true colors of the town when they help me catch frogs. I agree with them._

_I don’t like aquariums._

_Mostly ‘cause it makes me feel… trapped._

_I don’t like the glass tanks. Or the dim lights. Or how they try to make the coral with their small decorations seem so bright and happy._

_It’s not._

_All aquariums do is talk about the ocean. And they don’t do a very good job at it either._

_Books are better about that than aquariums anyway. _

_Whenever my brother asks me to take him to the aquarium to see a new exhibit, I take him out for ice cream. If he still wants to go, I ask my Besty to take him instead._

_Besty often tells me to suck it up and go myself. I never do, and they never force me to._

_Whenever I feel scared, I go to a lake to catch minnows._

_Whenever I feel alone, I go looking for puddles for frogs._

_Whenever I feel lost, I go sticking my nose in books._

_But whenever I feel angry… I go to the ocean._

_I never liked the ocean._

_But it’s a safe place._

_It’s empty. It’s quiet. It’s just me and my thoughts, drifting on my favorite surfboard in the middle of nowhere._

_Sometimes I bring my fishing pole and use all the minnows and frogs I gathered as bait. Sometimes I catch something. Sometimes I don’t._

_It’s alright… I guess._

_The ocean is okay when it needs to be, but I will never like it._

_Besty keeps telling me to stop saying how I dislike the ocean. They keep pointing out how I keep going out there, how I spend more time out on the water than anywhere else. I keep telling them I spend more time at home watching over my brother. They keep calling my bluff._

_Whatever._

_I don’t care._

_I still don’t like the ocean._

_I never will._

_Doesn’t matter how much time I spend out there more than any other place._

_Doesn’t matter if my Besty always gives me that knowing look when I say I’m fine._

_Doesn’t matter when they bring an extra surfboard when we go walking along the beach._

_Doesn’t matter that my brother likes to hear stories of the sea when he curls up next to me during a bad storm._

_Doesn’t matter that dad’s not home enough for the both of us, or that he forgets to show up on our birthdays, or call us to let us know he’s working late again when he promised to be there for dinner tonight, or when he brings his friends over and sends us away for the night forcing us to crash at my Besty’s place or the boathouse, or that he comes back drunk and passes out on the couch instead of attending my brother’s important school play that he’d been so excited to be a part in and practiced for months on end to get the best part and hoped dad would be there to watch him put on his best performance he could show…_

_It doesn’t matter._

_It doesn’t matter._

_‘Cause I know it doesn’t matter._

_It never matters._

_I will never like the ocean._

_No matter how much I wish it would swallow me whole… _


End file.
